


Reunited

by sanriolove



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Reader-Insert, Season Four Episode Eight Spoilers, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanriolove/pseuds/sanriolove
Summary: A rewrite of a scene from "An Assassin's Bullet."Warning: Season Four, Episode Eight Spoilers, Angst, Character Death.
Relationships: Connie Springer & Reader, Jean Kirstein & Reader, Marco Bott & Reader, Sasha Blouse & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Reunited

You have no regrets. 

Your muscles tense when your ears pick up a subtle thud that’s gone unnoticed by most aboard the airship. Sasha has heard it as well and Jean shouts for the rest of your comrades to settle down to no avail. They’re too consumed in celebrating Paradis’ first victory against Marley to properly hear Jean's demand.

When you whip your head around to the open doorway to see a young girl with a gun in hand roll her way inside, your body reacts before your mind can process what’s occurring. 

It was  _ instinct _ for you to push Sasha down out of harm’s way. 

A splintering pain blooms from your chest and you crumple to the ground. 

Pain radiates throughout the entirety of your body. People are yelling, shouting at what seems to be the top of their lungs, and you wonder why must they be so loud. 

“Y/n!”  _ Who is yelling for you? _ Your head’s too heavy to turn, but your eyes wander, searching for who called your name. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out the faces of Sasha, Jean, and Connie above you. 

“Hold on, Y/n. There’s a feast waiting for us when we get back home.” You faintly register the pressure of Sasha's hand against your cheek.  _ Ah, that’s right.  _ That Marleyan chef, Niccolo was sweet on Sasha so he had promised that he would prepare a feast for her arrival after she had pestered him about it. He had said something about making a dish that neither of you had tasted before. You had been looking forward to it. 

There’s a heavy weight on your shoulder and your eyes lazily dart over to Jean’s face. His face is scrunched up in desperation and he looks like he’s about to cry. You’ve never enjoyed seeing your friends in pain, especially Jean, and you wish you could wipe away the tears that are brimming on his lower lash line, but you’re unable to summon the strength to do so. 

“We made a promise, Y/n, remember? So you have to hold on until we get back to the island.”  _ Promise? What promise?  _ Your thoughts bleed into one another as you attempt to recall what Jean is referencing. 

Oh, you remember now. 

After your brother had died during the battle of Trost, Jean quickly became overwhelmingly protective of you. You didn’t mind it so much, in fact you sought out the comfort that only Jean could provide you with. You had both lost someone immensely important to you - he lost his best friend while you lost your brother that day. 

Bathed in light from the burning of bodies within the pyre, Jean had made you promise him that you would fight to live, no matter what. You only did so after he made the same promise to you first. 

But, you’re so  _ tired _ . 

Marco's death inevitably had hit you hard, but you continued to fight.

You fought for your friends, for your comrades,  _ for humanity _ . You fought for a future free of titans and a chance to see the world beyond the walls.

You have spent the majority of your life fighting, and  _ for what _ ? When will you finally be able to rest? 

It’s difficult for you to focus, but your eyes gloss over Connie, Sasha, and Jean. Their faces are blurred around the edges, but you can make out the pitiful looks on them. 

“I love you,” you manage to croak out. It’s quiet, so quiet that the trio above you strain their ears in order to hear you. 

Your friends’ voices overlap with one another, pleading with you to stay, but you’re so tired. 

Perhaps, it’s finally time for you to rest. 

You jolt awake with a gasp. you sit up straight and jerk your head around, searching for any sign of Jean, Connie, and Sasha.  _ What happened? How did you end up outside?  _ Your mind is racing with these questions and more, and you pray that your friends are safe. The last thing you remember is getting shot and—

“Y/n?”

You go still.

Impossible.

You haven’t heard that voice in well over  _ four _ years. 

You tilt your head up and your voice catches in your throat with the sight you’re greeted with. 

“Marco?” Your voice is meek and full of disbelief as your eyes soak in his appearance that you had found yourself forgetting with the passing years. 

An easy grin crosses his face and a watery laugh fills the air.

“You shouldn’t be here just yet.” 

Your jaw hangs ajar as your brain attempts to understand how Marco is in front of you.

“How- I-I don’t un-under-.” The feeling of Marco's arms around you cuts off your stream of jumbled words. Your arms hang loose by your side for a moment before you quickly reciprocate the hug, fiercely digging your nails into the material of his jacket. You bury your face into his chest, inhaling the scent that is distinctly Marco’s, and  _ sob _ . 

“I missed you, brother.”


End file.
